


Enough

by Sam_Eller



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12.03, ALL THE GOOD STUFF, Broken Boys, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly feels, Brothers, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Dean, Teenchester, Teenchesters, The foundry, all that good stuff, november 2, s12, sam and dean - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8459176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Eller/pseuds/Sam_Eller
Summary: November 2nd has never been a bright day for the Winchester Brothers, and Mary's recent departure has only added to the pain of the dark anniversary. Slight tag to 12.03 - The Foundry.  Teenchester Flashback.  Hurt/Caring/Sam.  Protective/Caring/Dean.





	1. Chapter 1

Note: It is still November 2nd, so I am going to post this sucker now. I just whipped it up today, it is a little random. Enjoy! :)

* * *

In hindsight, he should have seen it coming.

If he hadn't been so angry.

If he hadn't been so distracted.

If he hadn't been so wrapped up in his own pain.

If he had looked at a fucking calendar, he would have seen it coming.

He _should_ have seen it coming.

But he hadn't.

"No!"

Dean startled at the holler as it echoed through the bunker, nearly dropping the full glass of whiskey he had been cradling in his hand. He was alarmed, because he hadn't been expecting it (like he should have been), not because he didn't know what it was. Dean had an intricate understanding of his little brother, which included what he sounded like upon waking from a nightmare.

Sam used to simply gasp awake, however since the cage, crying out was a new option. Dean made his way down the hall toward his brother's room, wondering what it was that had tormented Sam's dreams this time. The cage was always a likely suspect, but Dean could usually see those nightmares coming, like he had after Sam had been fucking tortured by that British-bitch. The kid had a few bad dreams after that, but not for the past few nights. Mom had left, but Sam hadn't had any nightmares about that, not that Dean had noticed anyways. Plus, your mother walking out on you was the kind of thing that hurt, and maybe even scarred, but it wasn't exactly night-terror material.

Dean sighed running his hand through his hair as he approached his brother's room, it was only that lingering thought of Mary that sparked the hunter's next idea. He slid his phone from his jeans, lighting up the screen long enough to get a look at the date, before returning the device to his pocket.

November 2nd.

Fuck.

How had he not seen this coming?

Sam tried to regain his bearings, forcing his breath to slow as he sat up in bed.

"Dammit." He cursed, tossing the covers aside. He knew there would be no getting back to sleep after that, he wouldn't be able to lay down again without feeling blood drip onto his forehead.

"Mom or Jess?"

Sam looked up to see his older brother stepping into his room.

"Both." He rasped, closing his eyes for a moment, finding no solace in what greeted him in the darkness, the image of a bleeding blonde woman burning alive on the ceiling. Sam quickly forced his eyes back open.

"Two for one, lucky you."

The words may have been phrased casually, but Sam could easily detect the despair in Dean's tone. He hated it just as much as Sam, probably even more.

Sam sat on the edge of his bed, bare feet resting on the floor as he stared over at the older man.

Dean looked exhausted, but he hadn't even changed into sleep-clothes yet, and the glass in his hand told Sam that the older man had yet to even attempted sleep. Sam sighed inwardly. Their mother's departure had hurt him, in more ways than he thought possible, but it had _devastated_ his big brother. And Sam couldn't seem to find a way to make it better for Dean, he wasn't even sure there was a way.

"You want to do something?" Dean inquired after a moment.

"What?" Sam asked, trying to climb out of his thoughts and back into reality.

"Do you want to do something?" Dean repeated, patiently.

Dean was always patient with Sam. Sure, he bitched when the younger man took long showers, and he whined when Sam took his time reading, but Dean never lost his temper or became genuinely frustrated. Even after the nightmares, when Sam would often be a little spaced-out and scattered - his mind struggling to forget the merciless memories of the past, and focus back into the present - Dean would never snap at him or grow aggravated, no matter how many times he had to repeat himself. The older hunter no longer had patience for much in life, but he always did for Sam. And the youngest Winchester never stopped being grateful for that.

Sam squinted at his brother, his gaze traveling down to the object in his hand.

"Not that." He responded softly, nodding at the glass.

Dean looked down, not realizing for a moment what his little brother was indicating, once he did comprehend, he returned his eyes to Sam. The kid kept glancing between Dean and the drink, an apprehensive expression lining his tired face. Dean understood it immediately. November 2nd, was always a bad day for John Winchester, and more often then not he had spent it drowning himself in booze. The excessive consumption of liquor tended to do one of two things to their father. It made him sullen and miserable, or angry and volatile. If he didn't have a hunt to recklessly throw himself into, he would go off to the nearest bar on a bender, or sit in the motel room and brood. When Dean had started drinking (well before the legal age), he could remember Sam being weird about, becoming anxious when the older boy had so much as a beer in his hand. Dean had originally thought it was because the kid was such a stickler for rules and frowned on the law that was being broken, it took a few months for the teen to realize that it was more than that; and it took one hell of a chick-flick moment to get Sam to open-up about it. Dean had discovered that Sam was worried that his older brother would someday make the same mistakes that John had. He would drink to cope, drink to forget, and when he had too much he would become unstable, just as their dad did after having a few too many. Dean had quickly assured the young boy that he would never do that. He additionally promised to never drink on November 2nd, a promise he had kept until Sam went off to Stanford.

"Don't look at me like that, dude. I didn't even have chance to take so much as a damn sip yet. The glass is still full, ain't it?" Dean pointed out, making a show of displaying the cup.

Sam's lips twitched, but his anxiety didn't dissipate in the least.

When Dean had the mark, Sam hadn't failed to notice how his brother had drowned himself in alcohol, something he had never done at any point in Sam's life. Not even when Dad died. Sure, on occasion Dean had too many, but he had never used liquor as a consistent coping method, he had never lost himself in it, and Sam knew that a huge reason for that was because Dean had promised him that he wouldn't. That had changed when Dean had the mark, and ever since then Sam watched his brother's booze-intake a little more closely than usual.

It wasn't like Sam wouldn't understand if Dean wanted to drown away the pain, specifically on this date, and especially after what happened with their mom. But he would be lying if he said it didn't scare him.

"Sammy."

The younger man tore his gaze from the whiskey and looked back up at his brother.

Dean was frowning, he looked unhappy, but not perturbed, Sam also didn't fail to notice the compassion shining through the green eyes.

"I forgot what day it was. Okay?" He stated softly, discarding the glass onto the desk and stepping away.

Dean could practically see the unease pour off the younger man.

"You don't have to. I mean…today, and then all that happened this week, I understand if you want to…" Sam faded off, gesturing at the liquor.

"Nah, I'm good, Sam." Dean said with a dismissive shake of his head.

"Seriously, Dean. I know you promised, but that was like forever ago—

"Doesn't matter. A promise is a promise."

Sam smiled at the comment, finding it surprisingly reassuring.

"Come on."

"What?" Sam questioned, squinting up at his brother, who was gesturing to the door.

Dean smirked, shaking his head at the confused puppy-dog look he was receiving. Sam was always a little slow on the uptake after having a bad dream.

"Come on, buddy. Let's get out of here." Dean prompted, snagging Sam's shirt and tugging on it until the kid was up and making use of those giraffe legs of his.

"Where we going?" Sam asked, as he obediently shuffled after his big brother.

"Sweater." Dean instructed, stopping at the door, his eyebrows rising as he felt an uncoordinated sasquatch stumble into him.

The younger Winchester cocked his head.

Dean couldn't help but chuckle.

"Grab your sweater, space-cadet."

Sam frowned, grabbing his hoodie off the end of his bed, and following his brother out into the hall.

Sam trailed after Dean all the way to the garage, watching curiously as his older brother climbed behind the wheel.

"Come on, Sam." Dean ordered, a smile pulling at his lip as he stared at the lanky kid still standing perplexed at the front of the Impala. Sam's sweater was half on, his hair was all over the place, and when he rubbed tiredly at his eyes, he looked all of five years old.

How the hell could anyone ever ditch this kid?

Dean's heart clenched at the thought, and he struggled to push the rising fury away as he watched Sam drop gracelessly into the passenger seat.

"We going on a drive?" He asked, looking expectantly in Dean's direction.

"No, dude, we are just going to sit and stare at the garage." Dean shot back dryly, starting his baby and guiding her out into the night.

"But it's like two in the morning."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you planning on getting some sleep?" Dean inquired knowingly.

Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't bother arguing. He knew his brother knew him well enough to know there was no way in hell he'd be able to fall asleep after the nightmares he had experienced. He observed his brother for a moment, frowning at the dark bags beneath the older man's eyes. He didn't know what had kept Dean up half the night, though he could probably make a pretty accurate guess, but it wasn't fair that he had to stay up for the rest of it because of Sam.

"Doesn't mean you can't get any." He suggested, hoping perhaps Dean would admit to some level of exhaustion.

As per usual, Sam Winchester was completely out of luck.

Dean shook his head. He wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that Sam was awake dwelling on the traumas of the past, or the present for that matter. Besides, all Dean had done most of the night was stare at the glass of whiskey and wonder what he could have done differently. It was a useless train of thought that wouldn't lead anywhere pleasant.

Dean shook his head in an effort to clear it, as he directed the car down the road.

"That's my girl." He praised, caressing the steering-wheel, proud the Impala was still running smoothly so soon after being t-boned in the street.

The man on his right released a sarcastic snort, but Dean didn't miss the way Sam ran his hand lovingly over the dashboard.

Dean smirked, Sam could bitch and moan all he wanted, but the older man knew that his little brother loved the car just as much as he did.

He felt content being in the Impala with his little brother.

He was glad that the kid was back up at the front, right next to Dean, right where he belonged.

Where he would always belong.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked, not sounding pushing, but content and relaxed.

He felt at home with Dean in the Impala.

He always had.

He didn't know where they were going, and honestly, he couldn't care less.

He would go wherever Dean wanted.

He would follow him anywhere.

Throughout his entire life, Sam had never felt more at home or at peace than when he was with is big brother.

He trusted Dean more than anyone, he always had.

Dean was the only person Sam had ever truly been able to depend on.

He was Sam's anchor.

He was his family.

Dean was everything to Sam.

And Sam would stay by his side no matter what.

No matter where they were headed or how long the journey.

Sam would be there.

Always.

And maybe – just maybe – that would make things a little better for his big brother.

Because, more than anything, Sam wanted things to be better for Dean.

He wanted his brother to receive all the happiness he dam-well deserved.

And Sam hoped that one day he would be able to find a way to make that happen.

But for now, well for now, all he could do was be there.

And maybe for now, on November 2nd, that would be enough.

Sam prayed that it was enough.

"Wherever you want." Dean replied.

"What?"

"Wherever you want. I got cash, baby's got a full tank, we've got nowhere to be. We can go anywhere you want to." The older hunter declared, glancing to his right, smiling at his brother's wide-eyed expression.

He wasn't kidding. He would drive Sam anywhere he wanted.

They could go all the way across the damn country if Sam wanted to.

Because it was November 2nd, and like all the ones before it, Dean would spend the day trying to make things just a faction better for his little brother.

He couldn't fix it all.

Dean was all too aware of that fact.

He hadn't been able repair Sam's motherless-childhood.

He hadn't been able to fix their father.

He hadn't been able bring back Jess.

Hell, he hadn't even been able to get their mom to stick around.

But he could drive.

He could pay for gas, go to a movie, or even a fucking museum, if that was what Sam wanted.

He could do _something_ to make his kid smile on this fucked-up anniversary.

And if he could make Sam happy, that would be enough for Dean.

That had always been enough for Dean.

As it should be for any parent.

* * *

Note: There is a 2nd half coming soon. Ideally I would like to get it finished and edited tomorrow, but I work super late, so I'm not sure that is realistic. Either way, it will be up soon. I would love comments/reviews, if you have a spare moment! I love to know what everyone thinks! Thanks for reading! - Sam


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Sorry this is late. I had a little incident involving pineapple and an epipen (that`s also why I haven`t been on tumblr recently, but I`ll be back tomorrow I promise). Hope you enjoy the final chapter. :)

* * *

"You're joking, right?"

"Nope."

"Dude, I just gave you one of the biggest free-passes ever."

"Yeah, and?"

"And you're freakin wasting it."

"You said wherever I wanted."

"I know, Sam, but I didn't realize you'd choose something so fucking lame."

"So, what? You're taking it back?" Sam questioned, sounding almost hurt.

"No, just pick something else. Something better." Dean requested hopefully.

Sam shook his head.

Dean scowled.

"Opportunity is wasted on you."

Sam smirked at his brother's aggravation. He wasn't sure why Dean was so outraged, but he found it entertaining.

There were a few moments of silence, Sam gazing out the window and up at the star-filled sky as they drove down a dark backroad. Dean was glaring out the windshield, as though the night had personally offended him.

"Seriously?" Dean blurted, after several minutes.

Sam rolled his eyes, he couldn't believe his brother still wasn't over it.

"Dean." He sighed.

"We could have gone to that rock with the old dudes on it."

"Mount Rushmore?" Sam ventured with a chuckle.

"Or that giant museum in Washington."

"The Smithsonian."

Dean nodded.

"Or the Grand fucking Canyon."

Dean side-eyed Sam, daring for him to correct him. Sam smirked.

"I offered to take you _anywhere_ , and you chose a diner, in some deadbeat town in the middle of bloody Wyoming."

Sam just stared expectantly at his older brother, making it clear that he had no intention of altering his decision

"You do realize that it is going to take like eight hours to get there?" Dean pointed out.

"It's two in the morning, it will be a good time for breakfast by the time we arrive." Sam responded with a shrug. "Besides, it's not like the Grand Canyon is in our backyard, and you are apparently willing to drive that far."

"Yeah, cause at least when you get there you are rewarded with something. It's not like there is going to be anything to see at some stupid diner." Dean whined, but kept on course to Wyoming; because even though he thought it was utterly moronic, that was where his kid brother wanted to go, so that was where they were going.

Sam smirked at his brother, knowing that when they arrived at their destination, the older man would be singing a different tune, until then, the younger Winchester would sit back and enjoy Dean's childish display of irritation.

Thinking of tunes, Sam frowned at the lack of music blasting through the speakers. Not that he minded at all, it was nice driving through the night in silence, but it was simply unlike his brother not to take advantage of any and every opportunity to crank up his music. Thinking that perhaps Dean had just forgotten amidst his bitching, Sam reached forward to play whatever tape was undoubtedly sitting in the player, only to have Dean's hand intercept his own.

Sam halted his efforts, feeling Dean's fingers clench briefly around his own before releasing.

"Just-just not now. Okay?" Dean requested softly, glancing between the passenger and the road, his tone expressing to Sam that he would be okay with what his little brother chose, but he was declaring his preference.

Sam's brow furrowed in question, but he nodded, pulling his hand back to rest on his knee. Maybe Dean was enjoying the silence, or perhaps the music would remind him too much of their mother, either way, Sam had no issue accepting his brother's request.

Sam couldn't hold back the yawn as he turned to gaze out the window.

"It's going to be a while, you could grab some shut-eye." Dean suggested, doing his best to not make it sound like an order, knowing how his little brother always reacted to that sort of thing.

Sam frowned, shaking his head. He knew what memory would greet him in his sleep, and had no desire to play witness to it.

"There's no ceilings in the car." Dean softly reminded the kid.

Sam quirked a smile, not being able to count the number of times his brother had said the same thing to him in the past, while trying to convince the younger hunter to get some rest.

"I'm good." Sam stated.

Dean didn't look like he bought it, but thankfully did not push the matter any further.

The rode in calm silence for quite a while, both trying to steer their minds from the memories that always haunted them on every second day of November.

After a couple hours, Sam's quiet voice broke the silence.

"Hey, you remember the time in Nevada, during that huge storm, when we built that giant fort in the motel room?" Sam asked, looking over to his left.

"I think I was, like, eight." He added, hoping to help jog his older brother's memory.

He should have known that wasn't necessary.

"You were seven, and that storm was insane, man, it went on for days." Dean recalled.

"Yeah, and the power was out for like a week, we were bored as hell."

"We'd been stuck in that shithole hotel for weeks. I came up with that fort idea as a last-ditch effort to keep your ass from climbing the walls."

Sam smirked, recalling clearly how antsy he had gotten after a couple days trapped in that room with nothing to do. After he had re-read all his books at least twice, he had started going crazy. Begging Dean to play games with him and harassing the older boy non-stop. His brother had never once lost patience with Sam. He had given him all the paper in his backpack to draw pictures and colour. Dean had taught the youngest Winchester a bunch of different card games, playing them with Sam one-hundred times over. He had patiently listened to Sam's energetic rambling, and answered his never-ending stream of inquiries. Dean had been great.

"Yeah, I remember. Man, I was such a brat." He stated with a chuckle.

Dean instantly shook his head, smoothly steering the impala around a bend in the road as he replied.

"Nah, you were just a kid with a lot of energy and nothing to do with it. You lasted a hell of a lot longer than I would have at your age, or even at the age I was then. I was just as restless as you were. After only the second day of that storm keeping us inside with no power, I was losing my mind."

Dean could recall the incident as though it were yesterday. His shaggy-haired baby brother flinching at the thunder as he used a couple crayons to colour the last sheet of paper they owned. Sam had read each of his books over again, done as many quiet activities as he could come up with, played every card game Dean could think of, he had been bored and hyper, but he had never once complained. Never once whined or pouted or bitched, though his young age and the circumstance would have given him more than enough reason to do so. Sam had been great.

"That was a hell of a fort." Sam declared with a smile.

"Damn right it was. That was like the Ritz of forts. It was nicer than some motels we stayed in." Dean boasted.

Sam nodded in agreement. Remembering how big the fort had been, how they had pulled a mattress onto the floor and camped out with snacks and laughed as they used the flashlight to make puppets. Without even thinking, Sam was grinning at the image in his mind, as it replaced the horrific scene that was usually trapped behind his eyelids on this particular anniversary.

The brothers spent the remainder of their trip reminiscing. Speaking of fond memories they had of times they spent together. Talking about the time Dean snuck an under-aged Sam in to see the third Die Hard movie. The time in Alabama when they had occupied themselves by playing pranks on their grouchy next door neighbours. The snow-day in Michigan when they had spent all afternoon building elaborate snow forts with a connecting tunnel.

They steered clear of stories involving people that were no longer with them, simply recalling all the times they had laughed together. It had been just the two of them most of their lives, so there were more than enough memories to choose from. More than enough to keep the two brothers occupied for the remainder of their journey.

When they arrived in Moorcroft, Wyoming, it was nearing ten in the morning.

"So where the hell is this diner?" Dean questioned, both of the brothers feeling surprisingly more awake after their long drive, than they had at the beginning of it.

"Just keep going. It's right up here." Sam replied calmly, gesturing vaguely up the street.

It wasn't until Dean pulled up right in front of the diner, that he recognized it, the memory sailing across his mind.

_The hunt had been a bitch._

_Not particularly difficult, it had actually been a pretty straightforward kill._

_But physically, it had been a total bitch._

_All three Winchesters had been forced to exert themselves beyond their typical abilities. Each of them had been thrown around more than once. And each of them were covered in bruises and aching muscles._

_It was nights like this one, that made Dean question everything._

_Nights when they were beaten and sore._

_When they were muddied and exhausted._

_When they hadn't even made it in time to save the monster's latest victim; instead arriving just in time to see the young woman's insides become her outsides._

_When Dean looked over at his kid brother, taking in each of Sam's scars and bruises, seeing the way his shoulders hunched under the weight of the world, noticing the weariness that went down to the kid's very soul._

_When his baby brother looked fucking wrecked._

_It was on nights like this, that Dean hated hunting._

_Sam could feel his brother's eyes on him, but he was too tired to care. Everything hurt. Every muscle quivered from the strain it had been placed under. Every bruise was making itself known._

_They had been out all of last night and then Sam had school and research during the day, so by the time they returned to the motel a little after midnight, the young man was completely depleted. He could barely keep his eyes open as he hauled himself slowly out of the Impala._

_Part of him wanted to shrug Dean off, as the teen hurried over to the passenger side to grab Sam's arm and take some of his weight; but he knew that with his ruined knee and without his older brother, he probably would have fallen on his ass._

" _Boys."_

_Both brothers stalled at their father's call, turning to look at the truck where he was leaning out the window._

" _Make sure you get yourselves cleaned up and taken care of before you head to bed."_

_The boys nodded, the order being nothing more than common sense, which Sam normally would have pointed out, but he was too tried tonight. The brothers also knew that the instruction meant John would not be coming in with them._

_They angled toward the motel, only to have John call out again._

" _Dean."_

_The teenager inwardly sighed, wanting to get his kid brother inside and off his bad leg, but stalled and glanced back toward his father, his steadying grip on Sam never wavering._

" _Make sure you get some ice on your brother's knee."_

_Dean bit back another sigh, because that was the least necessary order his dad could have given, but he nodded obediently, getting a better hold of Sam's elbow when the kid began to sway._

" _Yes Sir." He replied automatically._

_John nodded, giving each of the boys another glance before putting the truck in reverse and pulling out of the parking lot._

_Dean knew exactly where their father was headed, he knew what day it was today, or - more importantly – what tomorrow was._

_November second._

_Dean released his sigh this time, as he pulled Sam's arm across his shoulders, knowing that the younger boy would be more willing to accept his help now that he wasn't putting on a tough act for their dad._

" _Come on, Sammy. Let's get you settled."_

_Sam made to respond, but the only sound that came out was a quiet moan as his left knee throbbed at the pressure he placed on it while walking toward their room door. Dean immediately took more of Sam's weight, the younger boy rolled his eyes, knowing that the sound of pain was the equivalent to flat-out begging his brother for help._

_Dean unlocked the room, and pushed the door open, swiftly catching Sam as the younger boy stumbled over the threshold._

" _I got you." Dean declared._

_Of that, Sam had no doubt._

_Sam allowed his brother to help him limp into the room, but resisted as Dean attempted to steer him toward the bed._

" _Shower." He explained, after his older brother gave him an annoyed glare._

_Dean hesitated. The kid was filthy, and a shower would help to clean out all the cuts and scrapes covering his skin, but Sam was also worn-out and struggling to stay on his feet._

" _Think you can stand that long?" He asked._

_The younger boy nodded._

" _Sam." Dean warned, knowing that his brother understood the importance of not down-playing injuries._

" _If you help me, I can do it." The kid amended._

_Dean's heart filled at the simple statement._

" _Okay then." He rasped, steering them towards the bathroom._

_Dean kicked down the toilet lid, and got Sam situated on top of it._

" _You good?" He questioned, looking over the younger boy, not liking the way he sat rigid on the seat, his discomfort apparent._

_Sam gave a tight nod, which did nothing to convince his older brother. Dean didn't leave the room until Sam began to strip off his shirt, indicating that he was fine, for now at least._

_Dean vacated the bathroom, leaving the door partially open as he moved over toward Sam's duffel, rifling through it to grab a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, quirking a smile as he realized his hand had wrapped his old Metallica t-shirt that Sam often wore when he was injured or sick. It was Dean's shirts and sweaters that had become a sort of comfort to the youngest Winchester. The teenager would be lying if he said that fact didn't make him feel all sorts of girlie-shit._

" _Dean?" The soft call had Dean snatching up a clean pair of boxers and quickly moving back into the other room._

_Sam sat miserably on the closed toilet seat, waiting for his brother to appear. It didn't take long, it never did. Whenever Sam called, Dean always came, and he did so at a rapid speed. Sam felt his cheeks colour in embarrassment and the teenager slipped into the room and raised an eyebrow at the younger boy wearing a t-shirt and boxers, with his jeans slid down his thighs._

" _What's up?" Dean asked, as though there was nothing odd about the sight._

" _They're stuck." Sam mumbled miserably, gesturing to his pants._

_Dean scrunched up his face, if Sam hadn't felt so tired and humiliated, he probably would have found the expression to be comical._

" _Stuck." Dean mused, placing Sam's clean outfit on the counter before crouching in front of his brother._

" _Can't get them over my knee." Sam explained, as he watched Dean give an experimental tug on the material._

_Dean frowned, realizing that Sam was right, and the jeans were - in fact - stuck, or at least the left leg was. The kid's knee had swollen so much that the stiff material couldn't seem to slide over it. Sam hissed as Dean made one last attempt at pulling the denim over his knee, before promptly giving up. He stood, reaching into his shaving kit to pull out a pair of scissors, before squatting back in front of his younger brother._

" _You needed new pants anyways." Dean commented, as he began to slice through the left leg of the jeans._

" _Don't use those. You cut my hair with those." Sam objected with a tired sigh._

" _Relax, princess, I'll wash them."_

" _You better." Sam mumbled, secretly pleased when his petulant comment made his older brother smile._

_The younger boy watched as Dean sliced apart his pants, biting back a gasp of pain when the rough material pulled tight across his injured knee. Dean muttered an unnecessary apology as he finished cutting and pulled the jeans from Sam's legs, tossing them into a corner of the bathroom. Sam yawned, feeling every single one of his muscles ache as he sat patiently, while Dean examined his knee._

" _You didn't tell me it was this bad." The teen growled, glancing accusingly up at the younger boy._

_Sam shrugged, unfazed by his brother's apparent anger, he knew that was just Dean's way of expressing concern. The older boy scowled and shook his head, which made Sam roll his eyes, his brother could be such a hypocrite. Dean always down-played his injuries, or "fought through the pain" – as he put it, but anytime Sam did the same, he got shit for it._

_Typical._

" _We'll get some ice on it as soon as your finished in here. You good to get up?"_

_Sam nodded, automatically reaching out for the hand he knew would be there. Dean easily pulled Sam to his feet, making sure the kid got his balance and giving him a once-over, before releasing his grip._

" _Make it quick, dude." He said, being sure not to make the instruction sound like too much of an order, knowing the kid never reacted well to those._

_Sam nodded, taking the demand for what it was, his big brother's worried request. The youngest Winchester tugged off his shirt, tossing it in the corner with his jeans. He grabbed for the waistband of his boxers, but kept from removing them as he noticed Dean was still in the room, and staring at Sam with wide eyes._

" _What the hell? Get out of here, perv." The younger boy grumbled, feeling uncomfortable under his brother's intense gaze._

" _Fuck, Sammy. You're beat to hell." The teen croaked hoarsely._

_Sam followed his brother's eyes, glancing down at himself and frowning. His torso was already marred with bruises, the several shades of purple appearing all too clearly against his pale skin. Sam had known he was feeling incredibly sore, but he hadn't had a chance to check out the damage just yet. Honestly, he had had a hell of a lot worse in his life. The bruises and sore knee would last a couple days, but he would heal fine. It wasn't a big deal. However, one look up at his older brother's face, told Sam that Dean didn't feel the same._

" _Dean." Sam waited for the teen's eyes to move up to his face, before continuing. "I'm fine, really. I can handle a shower."_

_Dean made no reply, simply standing by the door, apprehension patterning his features as his clinical gaze was trained on Sam._

" _I'll call you if I need something." Sam assured, knowing that was what his brother needed to hear._

_Dean clenched his jaw, schooling his expression as he gave the younger man a tight nod, glancing one last time at his kid's injuries, before stepping from the room. He left the door half-open, knowing that Sam would likely roll his eyes, but wouldn't fight it._

_Dean went to grab the first-aid kit from the Impala, and returned to pull out the icepacks that were always in the freezer, (whenever they stayed somewhere that actually had a freezer). He stood near the open bathroom door and called out to Sam, who gave an annoyed report that he was still 'fine'. Then Dean puttered around the room, turning the heat up, hoping to rid of the November chill that had settled in the room. The teen made up the bed furthest from the door, so it would be ready for Sam, and pushed his own cot a little closer to his brother's bed. He thought momentarily about crashing in their father's bed, it was likely the man wouldn't make it back until the wee hours of the morning, if he did in fact return at all; but Dean didn't know that for sure, but he did know that if John happened to return tonight, he would likely be too drunk to even register the fact that someone was in his bed, and Dean would end up getting crushed._

" _Dean?"_

_The teen's inner ramblings dissipated instantly at his little brother's quiet call._

_He strode to the bathroom, pushing the door fully open, to see Sam standing in his sweats with a white-knuckled grip on the counter, his legs shifting as he appeared to be trying to get the left one to hold his weight, but it proceeded to buckle beneath him._

_The look Sam gave his big brother when he stepped into the room, was equal parts embarrassment, frustration, and pure uninhibited need - which was what sent Dean's protective instincts through the roof._

" _It's alright, buddy. I've gotcha." Dean soothed, quickly grabbing Sam's left arm and pulling it over his shoulder, becoming reminded of how small the kid was._

" _Shirt." Sam ground out between clenched teeth, his knee pulsing in perpetual pain with each second he was on his feet._

_Dean reached over to the counter, snagging his old Metallica shirt, as they made their way slowly out of the bathroom._

_Dean more-or-less carried his younger brother over to the bed furthest from the door. Helping the kid get settled onto the mattress._

" _I'm fine, Dean." Sam stated, as his brother fussed over him, arranging the pillows at his back into the most comfortable position possible._

_Dean nodded, but didn't stop his ministrations; which was always his big-brother way of simultaneously acknowledging and dismissing Sam's words, it drove the youngest Winchester nuts._

" _Here." Dean handed Sam his shirt, after checking to make sure that the bruises on his abdomen weren't signs of any further injury._

_Sam gratefully slid into the clothing, wincing as the movement pulled at already hurting muscles. He flinched as his knee was manoeuvred, though it was done with the upmost care, and gasped as a towel-covered-icepack was wrapped around the swollen joint._

" _Easy." Dean hushed as he slid a pillow beneath the injured knee, elevating it as well as making it more comfortable._

" _Thanks." Sam sighed after a moment, once the cold pack began to do its job._

" _Take these." Dean ordered, ignoring his younger brother's unnecessary appreciation, as he handed him a couple pills for the pain and a cup of water._

_Sam huffed, but accepted the meds, downing them and the water. The glass was taken from his hand before he even had a chance to blink. Sam settled back against the pillows, sighing softly as the aches all over his body dulled by a fraction._

_The youngest Winchester looked up to see his older brother hovering by his side, pulling the blankets up to cover the twelve-year old._

_Sam reached out, grabbing the teen's wrist, it was only then that the green eyes met his._

" _Seriously, Dean. I'm alright. You should go get cleaned up." He prompted softly, because Sam knew that when he was injured, Dean often needed to be reminded to take care of himself._

_The teen opened his mouth, looking as though he were about to object, but Sam beat him to it._

" _I'm good, honestly. Besides, dude, you smell rank. Go shower. I left you some hot water and everything." Sam joked with a smirk._

" _Wow. You're so kind." Dean deadpanned._

" _I try." Sam quipped._

_Dean shook his head, a small smile pulling at his lips before he finally nodded._

" _Alright, but don't go anywhere."_

_Sam snorted at the order._

" _Damn, I was going to go for a run." He responded sarcastically._

_Dean chuckled as he grabbed clean sleep-clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the door partially open._

_Sam rolled his eyes, but felt his heart warm and Dean's blatantly protective nature. It was the thing that kept him looked after and taken care of. It was that same nature that would save Sam from having nightmares, because Dean had quickly covered his eyes on the hunt earlier that night, saving him from seeing the creature's latest victim from being torn apart. Sam knew based on the woman's dying scream, and the pale pallor of his older brother's face soon after, that the image had been a traumatic one. And Dean had saved him from it, his hand quickly clamping over Sam's eyes as he pulled the younger boy into his chest, as soon as they had arrived on the scene._

_The boy fell asleep soon after he heard the water turn on, but roused a short while later when a fully-dried and dressed Dean cautiously handled his knee._

" _De?" He rasped tiredly, cracking his eyes open and waiting for them to adjust to the dark room._

" _It's all good, buddy. Just switching out your icepack. Go back to sleep." Dean whispered._

_The offer was tempting, especially because his big brother was using that soothing tone that always lulled Sam to sleep in a cocoon of safety, but the younger boy resisted his heavy eyelids for a moment._

" _You 'kay?" He slurred, squinting up at his brother._

_Dean nodded, carefully propping Sam's knee back up on the pillow._

" _You going to sleep now?" He questioned, because he knew that after the hunt earlier that night, there was no way Dean was equally or more exhausted than Sam was._

_Dean nodded again, canting his head to the left where the cot was, as he tugged the blankets back up around Sam._

" _You should sleep on the bed." The youngest Winchester stated, knowing that even though he hadn't seen the damage, Dean was bound to be sporting just as many bruises and pains as Sam was, probably more._

" _Yeah right. As if I would let you sleep on the cot with your fucked-up knee, besides, it's my turn, remember?" Dean reminded his little brother._

_Sam scowled._

" _It won't be any more comfortable for you. I know you are hurting just as much as me, and you're too tall for that thing anyways." He argued, gesturing down at the small cot, which he noticed had moved much closer to his bed than it had been last night._

" _We can't all be midgets." Dean jabbed, hoping to derail Sam's train of thought with the insult._

_But his kid was too stubborn to be distracted._

" _Just sleep on the bed, there's lots of room." The younger boy reasoned, sliding over to the left side, knowing that Dean would want the right, the one closest to the door._

" _Hey, whoah, hold up!" Dean urged, after seeing Sam's face scrunch up in pain as he tried to relocate._

_Sam stalled for a second, glaring up at his brother._

" _Either help me move over and get your ass on the bed, or I am going to get up and go over to the cot." Sam threatened._

" _You can't even walk right now, Sam. Give it a rest." Dean replied, annoyed that his little brother was being so careless, as he kept a firm grip on the boy's shoulder and leg in an effort to keep him in place._

_Sam's glare intensified._

" _Then I'll crawl." He shot back._

_Dean knew his little brother was being serious, the stubborn little shit would further injure himself to get the teen to do what he wanted._

" _Fine." Dean grumbled, acting as though Sam wasn't looking after him the only way he knew how. Pretending that his little brother's insistence that Dean get a comfortable rest, didn't warm his heart and clog his throat._

_Dean gently lifted Sam, the thin frame far too easy to manage, as he placed him down on the left side of the mattress. He resituated his little brother's injured knee, being careful not to jar it._

" _You know, if you just wanted to cuddle, you could have just said so." Dean mocked playfully, as he grabbed his pillow and blanket off the cot._

" _Whatever, Jerk." Sam scoffed, his dimples betraying his amusement._

" _Just make sure your scrawny ass stays on that side, Bitch." Dean replied with a yawn, as he gently laid onto the bed, being careful not to move too abruptly and jostle his little brother._

_The brothers laid next to each other in silence, both thoroughly exhausted from the hunt._

_Dean had thought Sam was sleeping, until a soft voice sounded from his left._

" _I don't like hunting."_

_The words were whispered, as though they were a dark confession. Dean tensed, his heart thudding, though he didn't know why, because it wasn't like Sam had said something the teen didn't already know. His little brother had always wanted in on hunts as a kid, but never because he had any desire to kill monsters, simply because he was tired of being left behind. He was included now, part of the team, but Dean had always known that wouldn't be enough forever, eventually Sam would want more. The kid deserved more. But these were always thoughts Dean had kept to himself, contained in his mind and hidden from his soul, afraid that they would one day come to light and break his heart._

" _The killing, moving around constantly, missing school, always getting hurt, having to lie all of the time…I hate it, Dean."_

_The teen ached for his little brother. Sam sounded so lost, so wrecked, the kid was only twelve fucking years old, he shouldn't ever sound like that!_

_Dean swallowed thickly, ignoring the lump in his throat, as he stared up at the ceiling, as if there would be some magical answer written in the darkness._

" _It has been a rough night, Sam. It won't always be this way. Things will be better when you wake up, you'll see." Dean reassured, hoping the words didn't sound as hollow to Sam as they did to the older boy's own ears._

" _Not tomorrow. Things will be worse tomorrow."_

_Dean cringed, apparently he and John weren't the only ones who knew what day it was._

" _It'll be better, Sammy. I'll make it better. I promise." Dean vowed softly._

" _Okay, De." Sam sighed after a moment._

_Not sounding as though he was in agreement, or even hopeful, just simply resigned._

_Sam drifted off to sleep soon after, Dean remained awake a little longer, knowing he had to keep his promise, find some way to make November 2_ _nd_ _okay for Sam; and when John stumbled in at five-thirty in the morning, reeking of liquor, Dean knew that in order to keep his promise he had to get his little brother out of there._

_So that is what he did, by the time Sam woke up, Dean had all their stuff packed in the Impala. He helped the younger boy hobble to the bathroom and waited patiently for him to change, before the two brothers quietly exited the motel._

" _Don't you think Dad'll be pissed?" Sam asked, after Dean had helped situate him in the passenger seat, his left leg extended comfortably across the bench seat._

_Dean didn't answer, remaining silent as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the highway._

" _Dean." Sam prompted, nudging at his brother's thigh with his left foot._

" _You're going to aggravate your knee if you keep kicking me like that." Dean warned._

" _It feels a lot better now than it did last night, the ice helped." Sam dismissed, using his toes to poke at the teen again._

" _Cut it out, man." Dean whined, smacking at his little brother's foot._

" _Not until you answer me." Sam argued, jabbing at his brother's leg again, digging his toes into his thigh._

" _It'll be fine, dude. We left a note."_

" _Yeah, saying we would meet him at the next hunt in Missouri in a couple of days. He's going to freak."_

_Dean shrugged. Not because Sam was right, or because he was wrong, but because he didn't care. John could lose his shit or be completely cool with it, it wouldn't make any difference to Dean. Because the decision to sneak out, before the unpredictable hunter awoke, and take a road-trip with his brother, had nothing to do with John or his degree of approval. It was about Sam. It was about giving the twleve-year old a fucking break. It was about making his kid happy. That was all that mattered._

_Especially today._

_Dean glanced to his right, surprised to see his little brother relaxed back into his seat, looking peaceful._

" _You okay with that?" Dean questioned, surprised that Sam didn't seem remotely stressed about the possibility that John Winchester was royally pissed._

_It was Sam's turn to shrug._

" _If you are."_

_Dean's eyebrows rose in question, as he glanced between the passenger's seat and the road._

" _I don't care if Dad gets pissed, I was only worried because I thought you would. I know how you don't like to upset him." Sam explained, his voice fading into a whisper by the last statement._

_Sam watched his brother expectantly, but Dean made no response, simply stared out at the road as he drove._

_Sam looked for a few more minutes, before sighing and turning his attention out the window, it was only then that Dean spoke._

" _You're right. I don't enjoy pissing him off, especially not-not on this day. But we both need a break right now, and us going off for a couple days isn't going to hurt anyone."_

_Sam nodded at his brother's words, agreeing whole-heartedly, and not caring so much about Dean's motives, now that they were out alone on the open-road and Sam was feeling all the tension and anxiety melt away._

_But Dean wasn't finished._

" _Sam."_

_The younger boy responded immediately, turning to his left, surprised by the level of seriousness in Dean's voice. He looked to see the teen staring at him, his expression intense, as his vibrant green eyes seemed to be looking straight down into Sam's soul._

" _I follow Dad's orders because I trust him, and he usually knows what's best. But that doesn't mean I can't see what you need, and that comes first, Sammy. Okay? You come first. Always."_

_Sam felt his eyes filling at the sincerity he could see in his brother's gaze and hear in his gruff voice. The information was not new to him, Sam had always known that he was Dean's number one priority – and there wasn't a day that went by where he wasn't grateful as hell for that - but he had never heard the older boy bluntly announce it like that, and it put a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes._

" _Sam?" Dean questioned, glancing between the road and his brother, nervous about the silence he was receiving from the kid, and beginning to wonder if it came as that much as a surprise to Sam. How did the kid not know? Had Dean made him feel that unimportant? Had he made him feel so insignificant that Sam had thought – even for a second – that he came after their father, or after the fucking hunt? Had Dean really screwed up his job that badly?_

" _Sam?" Dean called out again, his tone more urgent, as his anger with himself mounted by the minute._

_Sam's silence had nothing to do with his doubts or his surprise, like his brother assumed, but was because he was trying to get a hold of his emotions before replying, knowing that his voice would betray him if he spoke._

_But the teen's wavering patience demanded a response._

" _I know- I know that, Dean. I've always known that." Sam choked out, quickly swiping away a traitorous tear that broke loose._

_Dean swallowed, a lump forming in his throat at the level of emotion he could hear in his little brother's reply._

" _Good. That's good." He rasped with a nod, clearing his throat once again and reaching over to squeeze Sam's arm in silent support. However, he didn't dare look back over to his right, knowing that the kid's expression would likely send him over the edge._

" _You hungry?" Dean questioned, a moment later, eager to move past the chick-flick moment._

" _Starving." Sam exclaimed, quickly jumping on board._

" _How do you feel about Donna's Diner?" Dean asked with a smirk, gesturing at the sign._

" _Sounds great."_

_They pulled in to the parking lot and Dean maintained a firm grip on his brother's elbow to both steady and support him as they made their way inside and into a booth._

" _You good?" Dean asked, nodding down, indicating Sam's knee._

_His brother nodded._

" _You need to prop it up? You could rest it on the seat if-_

" _No, it's alright. Really, Dean. I'm good." Sam promised with a small dimply grin._

_Dean nodded, satisfied._

_The menus were promptly placed in front of them, and a cup of coffee poured for Dean. The teen ordered his brother a chocolate milk, before the kid could ask for something as lame as water._

" _They have French-toast." Dean pointed out, not missing the way Sam's eyes lit up as they searched for the item on his menu. Dean also didn't fail to see how his little brother's excitement quickly diminished into disappointment before a mask of indifference fell into place and the boy shrugged._

" _Think I'll just get eggs."_

_Dean scowled. He knew Sam had looked at the price. The kid was way too fucking young to be so damn financially cautious. Dean hate it. Hated that the twelve-year old was always far too aware of how much money they had, or rather, didn't have._

_Sam was in the midst of deciding how he wanted his eggs cooked, when the menu was snatched from his fingers._

" _Hey!" He blurted, reaching out for the stolen object, frowning when his brother kept it far from his reach._

_The waitress chose that moment to reappear at their table, requesting their orders, and before Sam could even open his mouth, Dean spoke up._

_With a wink and a smile at the middle-aged woman, Dean proceeded to order the Breakfast Special with extra bacon for himself, and French Toast with a side of fresh fruit for Sam. The younger boy glared across the table at the teen, but waited until the waitress' departure before speaking up._

" _What the hell, Dean?"_

" _Language." Dean chastised, offhandedly, as he took another sip of his black coffee._

" _What'd you do that for?" Sam questioned irritably._

" _I know you, dude. You were about to pick the cheapest thing on the menu. So, I chose something better. Besides, you love French-toast, what's all the bitching about?"_

_Sam rolled his eyes. He wasn't a kid anymore, and if he wanted to choose the least expensive breakfast, then he damn well would. He was about to inform his brother of that fact, when Dean continued._

" _Most days we can't eat what we want. But today we can. I've got more than enough cash for this. We're good, Sam. Stop worrying about everything. You are going to end up with more wrinkles than Dad." The teen joked, standing from the booth. "I'm going to go take a leak, try to stop looking like your sucking on a lemon."_

_Sam watched Dean march off towards the bathroom, feeling his frustration fade away. The teen wasn't trying to treat him like a child, he was just trying to make Sam happy, just like he always did. Sam chewed down on his bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to return the favour, smiling when an idea popped into his head._

_When Dean returned to the booth, he was satisfied to see that his little brother's face was no longer scrunched up in a scowl. He was, however, surprised to see the kid sporting a dimply smile. He didn't question it, was just pleased that Sam was content._

_They enjoyed their breakfast, joking and laughing with one another. Dean dug into his food, polishing it off as quick as he always did, while Sam savoured every bite of the amazing meal. Dean was about to point out to his little brother that his toast would taste a lot better if it was still warm, when the waitress appeared, placing a slice of pie with a burning candle stuck in the middle of it._

" _Happy Birthday, young man. Have some dessert on the house. It might be a little early for all that sugar, but what's the point of a birthday if you don't spoil yourself." She stated with a wink and a smile, before picking up the empty breakfast plate and walking off._

_Dean looked across the table at Sam, quickly registering the shit-eating grin spread across the young face. It was then he realized what his brother had down._

_Dean couldn't stop the wide smile that pulled at his lips._

" _I thought you weren't a fan of lying, Sam."_

_The youngest Winchester shrugged._

" _I don't mind doing it for you." Was the simple reply._

_Dean's smile grew, as did his little brother's._

_Sam's smile had always meant the world to Dean, and he would do anything to keep that look of joy on his kid's face._

_As Dean blew out his candle, he didn't wish for a damn thing._

_Because he had everything he had ever needed, right there._

Dean couldn't stop from smiling as the memory finished playing out in his mind.

This diner, the one they had run off to all those Novembers ago, _this_ was where Sam had wanted to be.

Dean felt warmth spread through him, as he glanced over to his right, to see his little brother beaming back at him.

"You are such a sentimental little bitch." Dean said, still not able to wipe the smile off his face.

"I'm guessing that means that remember this place?" Sam asked, as he climbed out of the car.

"Yeah, buddy, I remember." Dean responded softly.

Sam nodded with a grin, he had been a little worried that Dean would have blanked, and that would have made things quite awkward.

The two men made their way inside the diner, heading straight for the booth that had been theirs last time. They both received coffees, but Sam politely turned down the offered menus, and proceeded to order.

Dean smirked at Sam as he ordered him the breakfast special with extra bacon, and got himself French toast with fresh fruit on the side.

"Is this you getting revenge?" The older man questioned after the waitress walked away.

"Something like that." Sam quipped with a shrug.

They enjoyed their meal together just as they had all those years before. Spending their time forgetting about the violent anniversary. Forgetting about their family dysfunction. Forgetting about the hunt. Just being together. Being brothers.

When a plate pf pie appeared before Dean, with a candle sticking out of it, he didn't even bother flirting with the attractive woman who placed it in front and wished him a happy birthday, he just grinned at the younger man across the table from him.

"How the hell did you pull this off? Neither of us left the table." Dean inquired once the waitress had left.

Sam's dimples brightened his face, making it almost too difficult to detect the dark bags beneath his hazel eyes, almost.

"I have my ways." The taller man evaded with a shrug.

Dean rolled his eyes, but for the life of himself, couldn't stop smiling, even as he readied to dig in to his dessert.

"Damn, I love pie. Pie never leaves you."

It had been a flippant comment, one that had slipped past Dean's lips without pause for thought. He regretted the words the moment he heard them, knowing that an unintentional vulnerability had been released.

He kept his eyes down on his plate, his fork remained stuck in his pie as he tried to figure out a way to back track. Dean heard Sam clear his throat, and looked up, nervous about what was coming, about what can of worms he had just popped the top off of.

Sam's smile threw him off.

"That's right, Dean. You've still got pie." He declared, humour in his tone.

Dean nodded with a grin, relieved as hell that there was no impending Dr. Phil moment to worry about. He stuck a forkful of pie in his mouth, revelling the amazing flavour.

"And you've still got the Impala." Sam pointed out, his voice containing both playful and more serious undertones.

Dean nodded, glancing out the window to his shining black-beauty, feeling peace and pride at the sight of his baby.

"And you've still got me." Sam added softly, practically in a whisper.

Dean looked across the table. Sam was smiling shyly down at his plate, his hair curtaining his eyes. Dean felt love spread through him, he was nearly overwhelmed by the force of it. What the fuck did he do to deserve a little brother like Sam. A brother who wanted to make him happy. Who worried about him. Who was there for him. Who loved him no matter what.

Sam was thinking the same about Dean. Wondering how he got so lucky to have someone in his life who never left him. Who was _always_ there for him. Who looked out for him. Who loved him unconditionally.

"Damn right I do, Sammy." Dean responded, his voice cracking as his green eyes searched out the hazel ones, that peaked out at him past all that damn hair.

Sam grinned, his eyes shining as he stared at his big brother.

Dean's lips angled up impossibly higher.

Because Sam was right.

He had pie, he had the Impala, and he had his kid.

And that was enough, it had always been enough.

Hell, it was everything.

**The End**

* * *

Note: Long-ass chapter eh?! I hope you liked it. Thank you so much for reading! If you have a moment to comment/review, please do so :) I am trying to respond to as many as I can. - Sam


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